


this ship is taking me far away

by skyestiel



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Disguise, Fake/Pretend Relationship, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hugs, Klance Week 2017, M/M, Mutual Pining, Nicknames, Post-Season/Series 02, Slow Dancing, all prompts included!, attempted humor, co-leadership klance, the third prompt is set in the future so established relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-23
Updated: 2017-05-23
Packaged: 2018-11-04 04:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10983621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyestiel/pseuds/skyestiel
Summary: "But Lance is hung up on something else. 'Partners in crime. Like… space range partners.''What?' Keith squawks.'Us.' Lance gestures between the two of them. 'Klance.''Oh my God, Lance,please stop.'or: a collection of my entries for Klance Week 2017!





	1. free will vs. fate

**Author's Note:**

> hello, hello! as pretty much everyone who follows me on twitter and/or tumblr knows, i decided to participate in klance week this year!!! this was my first time writing for a ship week so it's been a great learning experience for me. i also made the decision last minute (the day before the week officially started oops) so each entry is between 800-1200 words. 
> 
> i conducted a poll on twitter, and almost everyone thought i should crosspost the entries here. the title is from [the ultimate klance song, "starlight" by muse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pgum6OT_VH8). anyway, i hope everyone enjoys!!!!

“I can’t do this anymore,” Keith murmurs.

 

The room is heavy with exhaustion, with the weight of responsibilities. Slouched next to him on the couch, Lance glances at Keith out of the corner of his eye. The words are tired— _Keith_ is tired _._

 

Lance lets his eyes flutter shut. Another mission, another near disaster. Without Shiro at the helm, the team doesn’t function quite as well as it used to. Keith takes more risks than Shiro had, which occasionally works to their advantage. Today, though, is one of the many times it didn’t.

 

“It isn’t your fault, dude,” Lance sighs. He has yet to remove his armor, and the material feels heavier than ever. “Besides, we all made it out alive. That’s something, right?”

 

“Aren’t you the person who’s supposed to give me shit for this?”

 

“You make a good point…” Lance taps his chin, lips pursed. “If you need me to, I can. You don’t have to twist my arm. Actually, please don’t. My right arm hurts like a _bitch_ from where that one meathead Galra pushed me down.”

 

Keith snorts and leans his head back, exposing the long curve of his neck. A moment of silence settles between them before Keith speaks again. “I’m being serious, though. Leading the team… I’m not cut out for it.”

 

Lance cycles through a few different responses. Since Shiro vanished, Lance has heard the other paladins offer Keith varying advice. Hunk urging Keith to keep trying, Pidge admonishing him for his disregard for her family, Allura dissecting each of his plans, Coran insisting he’s the best for the job. And Lance… he doesn’t know how to handle the situation. How _does_ he feel about Keith as their leader?

 

“You didn’t choose this,” Lance starts, carefully considering his approach. “Did you?”

 

“I guess not. Shiro always said I should take his place if something happened to him.”

 

“But you didn’t choose to be the big bad leader of your own freewill. You know what I mean?”

 

“Lance…”

 

“It isn’t like you’ve been gunning for the position or anything. You took charge because a really close friend wanted you to.” Lance pauses. “I mean, you love Red, right? I know how close Blue and I are. Bonding with another lion after everything you put into bonding with Red—it can’t be easy.”

 

To his surprise, the corners of Keith’s lips twist into a smile. It reminds Lance of something and, for a moment, he can’t quite put his finger on what it is. But then he remembers. A shaky image, on the fringes of his memory, of Keith regarding him with a soft smile, their fingers interlocked.

 

 _The bonding moment_ , Lance recalls with a start.

 

“I miss Red so much,” Keith whispers. His voice is strained with longing, and it tugs at something inside Lance’s chest. “But I… I’m the only one who can pilot the black lion.”

 

An idea strikes Lance, and, okay, maybe it’s stupid. But Lance finds himself blurting, “I can help you.”

 

 _Idiot, idiot, what the hell._  Lance’s subconscious is screaming at him, and he kindly tells it to _leave him alone, geez_. Why did he say that? This is _Keith_ ; he doesn’t need Lance’s help. Allura would make a much better right-hand man—woman—than him.

 

“Really?” Keith prompts.

 

“Uh—I? Yes?”

 

Lance expects disgust or laughter or, hell, even annoyance. To think someone as useless as Lance would volunteer himself for such an important role is ridiculous.

 

“That…” Keith trails off and Lance braces himself for impact. “Would be... amazing.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, I shouldn’t have even brought it u—wait. What’d you just say?” Lance swears his soul leaves his body. “Did you? _What?_ ”

 

“I could really use some help,” Keith explains. There’s a weariness in his voice, and Lance realizes, with everything that’s happened recently, Keith has been hit the hardest. “I didn’t expect you to offer but… I kind of hoped you would.”

 

Lance must be dreaming. This Keith can’t possibly be the real Keith.

 

“Me?” Lance squeaks, disbelieving.

 

“You’re the best for the job…”

 

Holy shit, Keith is blushing.

 

“I don’t know about _that_ ,” Lance scoffs, scratching the back of his neck. He might be blushing, too. _Ugh_. “I’m just… you know. Me.”

 

“Exactly.” Keith’s eyes narrow to angry little slits, almost like he’s offended.

 

“Keith, my dude, my main man…”

 

“You can do it.” Slowly, Keith’s smile morphs into a smirk, much like before a practice spar. A wicked glint dances behind his eyes, and Lance feels like he’s going to explode. “Isn’t that right, Sharpshooter?”

 


	2. sacrifice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance only wants to help Keith.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> set sometime after the first prompt!! that good co-leadership klance content

This is the last thing Keith expected to happen when they landed on Gordania.

 

When they respond to a distress beacon, it’s usually to free people from Galran control. Occasionally, the aliens invite the team for a party or celebration, seizing any opportunity they can to boast their connections with the legendary Voltron. There have been, of course, times when the aliens try to deceive them.

 

But this is a whole new level of deceit.

 

Keith sighs and glances down at the thick coils of rope wrapped around his torso. His eyes flick up to the circle of aliens surrounding him, a race of towering people with beady black eyes and physical features similar to that of a frog. They smile at Keith, bearing rows of glimmering fangs. Currently, Keith is tied to the trunk of a tree. A tree, which is soon to be set on fire.

 

That’s right— Keith Kogane is about to become a human sacrifice.

 

“Your death will not be in vain,” the nearest alien urges. Gordanorns, that’s what they’re called. “The gods are pleased that we have chosen you.”

 

What does he even say to that? Keith tries to wriggle his wrists free of their restraints and winces at the pinching pain. “Are you sure the, uh, gods want someone like me?”

 

“Of course.” The Gordanorn holds a long stick. A tiny flame flickers at the end. “You should be honored.”

 

“Right, right,” Keith mutters. Another experimental tug and, nope, there’s no way he’s getting out of this. Keith is well and truly _fucked_.

 

Just as the Gordanorn lifts the “ritualistic flame,” a shout rings out over the murmurs of the crowd. “Stop!”

 

Surprisingly enough, the Gordanorn does as it’s told. It halts and adjusts its hold, brandishing the stick like a weapon. Inky black eyes scan the area in search of the speaker. “Who dares to interrupt this ritual? Show yourself!”

 

From his place on the platform, Keith can’t quite make out the identity of his rescuer. They gradually push their way to the front of the group and— _seriously_? There’s no mistaking the familiar suit, accented with blue plates. Even Lance’s gait is distinct enough to recognize.

 

“I refuse to let you sacrifice my—” Indecision flickers across Lance’s features. Keith can decipher it even from this distance. Lance sets his hands on his hips, lifting his chin. “My husband!”

 

Keith wonders, for a second, if the Gordanorn already lit the fire and he’s dead.

 

“This man is simply a fellow paladin.” The alien assumes its full height, leering down at Lance. “I will not be tricked.”

 

Keith tenses, unintentionally straining against the ropes. He won’t make it out of this alive. But Lance isn’t panicking and carries on as if he hasn’t just been called out.

 

“Oh no, we’re married alright.” Lance cups his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “Isn’t that right, babe?”

 

Warmth floods Keith’s face. When he escapes from here, he’s totally kicking Lance’s ass. Regardless of whether he saved him.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Keith answers awkwardly. “I knew my… _husband_ would come for me.”

 

“Oh, I’ll come for y—”

 

“Why don’t you tell these nice Gordanorns why they can’t burn me at the stake,” Keith interjects through gritted teeth. “ _Babe_.”

 

“I was getting to that.” Lance walks over to the platform Keith is on and hoists himself up. His long legs and arms make the task look effortless. He sidles up next to the alien holding Keith’s life in its webbed hands. “You see… if you kill him, we won’t be able to form Voltron anymore.”

 

The Gordanorn blinks. “And?”

 

 _Dammit, Lance_.

 

“Oh. Well, alright. That’s not the only reason,” Lance continues, undeterred. “He’s also part-Galran.”

 

Gasps and outraged mutterings fill the air. The Gordanorn on the platform snarls at Keith like a rabid dog. They lift the stick, flame inches away from Keith’s face, and he squeezes his eyes shut. This isn’t exactly how he planned to die, but oh well.

 

Keith waits for the crippling pain of being stabbed but— it never comes.

 

Cautiously, Keith opens his eyes. He’s met with a tousled head of chocolate brown hair. Lance is furiously slicing through the rope with what appears to be a rock, sharpened to a dangerous point. A few seconds of frantic cutting and the rope falls. Keith immediately works his way free and allows Lance to tug him off the stage.

 

As Keith scans the crowd, he notes the unconscious Gordanorn on the ground in front of the platform. The others stand around their fallen warrior, flailing and panicking amongst themselves. Meanwhile, Keith and Lance dive into the cover of the forest. They jump over roots and silently navigate through the trees. Lance takes the time to say, “I know, I know, we’ll talk about it when we get to Blue,” and leaves it at that.

 

Thankfully, the blue lion isn’t far from the village. The moment they step into the clearing, Blue crouches down, lowering their jaw to let the two crawl inside. Lance, for some reason, has yet to let go of Keith’s hand. He doesn’t until he climbs into the pilot’s seat.

 

Lance quickly takes control and helps Blue swerve through the branches overhead. Once they reach the treetops and effectively put enough space between themselves and the Gordanorns, Lance heaves a loud sigh of relief.

 

“Good riddance,” he mumbles and glances over his shoulder, shooting Keith a wobbly grin. “Sorry about the husband thing.”

 

“It’s alright.” Then, realization strikes Keith. “Wait, what did forming Voltron or being half-Galran have to do with us being _married?”_

 

“Well, you know, I was hoping they had at least some semblance of a heart. But that didn’t work so I had to go with the other excuses. The marriage was a failsafe, you know?”

 

Lance rambles away, and Keith edges closer, shaking his head. “Still not seeing a connection.”

 

“Just... ugh! I reacted, okay, I have no other— oh.” Lance freezes. He lifts a shaky hand to his cheek. The place Keith had just gently pressed a kiss to. “Keith…?”

 

“Thanks for saving me, husband.” Keith pats him on the shoulder, laughing at the way Lance startles at the touch. “I guess I can forgive you this one time.”

 

Never one to be outdone, Lance snorts and turns to Keith. “Whatever you say,” he answers cheekily, punctuating the sentence with an exaggerated wink, “babe.”

 

_Oh, I’m definitely kicking his ass once we get back to the ship._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all kudos and comments are appreciated!! they FUEL me. also please come cry with me on tumblr or twitter @tobiologist. i really love talking to readers!!


	3. scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance takes the time to reflect on Keith's scars and how they've grown closer over the years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this prompt is set about twenty years post-canon. older klance deserves more love and appreciation

Twenty years of protecting the universe can really take a toll on someone.

 

Two long decades of travelling through space, fighting a tyrannical empire, saving innocent lives, and piloting giant mechanical lions that can only do so much to protect the pilot within. Of course, taking on missions and fighting in hand-to-hand combat is dangerous; there’s no doubt about it. And with great power, comes great responsibility.

 

 _Or something along those lines_. Lance stares out at the waves, lapping lazily at the shore. The sand glistens, a muted orange under the light of the star duo overhead, like a couple of miniature suns. Although it isn’t exactly like Varadero beach, Lance can’t help but take some comfort from the familiar sounds of the ocean.

 

At his side, Keith has yet to say a word. He sits a bit hunched over, naked from the waist up. They wear a matching set of red and blue swim trunks that have, according to Coran, been worn by the paladins for centuries. A faint sheen of sweat covers his body, and Lance finds himself mesmerized.

 

Carefully, Lance closes the gap between them and situates Keith between his legs. He goes willingly, and Lance can’t help but snicker at what his younger self would say if he knew Keith Kogane let _him_ maneuver his body like this.

 

Well, there are a lot of things young Lance wouldn’t believe about their current relationship.

 

“Easy, Lance,” Keith warns but his words don’t have much bite. Lance has learned over the years that the heat turns Keith into a pile of moldable mush. “My back is sore.”

 

“Don’t worry, samurai, I’m just going to reapply some sunscreen so you don’t turn into a lobster. Again.”

 

“Hey, I didn’t get _that_ red last time.”

 

“Sure you didn’t,” Lance drawls. He squeezes a generous amount of the Altean equivalent of sunscreen into his palm. “Maybe it’s a Galran thing. I’ve never seen one of those guys hanging out at the beach.”

 

Keith clicks his tongue but doesn’t protest further. Muscles twitch beneath Lance’s hands as he slowly spreads the crème across Keith’s back. Miles of pale skin stretch out before him, begging to be appreciated. Lance maps out Keith’s body with his fingertips, places he’s touched hundreds of times before. There doesn’t seem to be a single spot Lance doesn’t have committed to memory.

 

Lance’s fingers skitter up Keith’s spine, brushing over each vertebra along the way. Once he reaches the base of Keith’s neck, he sweeps his palms down and across his shoulder blades. A mole here and, oh, a birthmark there. And, almost as numerous as the moles, are scars.

 

Tiny patches where puckered skin hints at past battles. Purple tinges each mark, just slightly off from Keith’s natural skin tone. One jagged scar stretches from the top of Keith’s right shoulder down to the middle of his spine. Another sits at his lower back, a rectangle-shaped mark Lance speculates has been there the longest.

 

Scars cover Keith’s body, and Lance knows them all by heart.

 

Lance kneads, pinches, and rubs as he works. His hands settle on Keith’s shoulders, trying to ease every bit of muscle tension. A minute or two of massaging is all it takes to draw pleased sighs and moans from Keith. Lance grins contentedly, glad to know he hasn’t lost his touch.

 

“Pretty sure I won’t get a sunburn now,” Keith jokes, tone soft and breathy. Lance stops for a moment, and Keith outright _whines_. “Lance, c’mon.”

 

 _This man will be the death of me_ , Lance decides with a mock exasperated sigh. “Yeah, yeah…”

 

Lance skims a diamond-shaped scar with his pinky, one he can only ever see at times like this when Keith’s chest is bare and hair tied back. Keith flinches at the contact, as he always does. The origin of this scar is… terrible, to say the least.

 

About ten years ago, Keith had been kidnapped by Galran soldiers. The skeevy Prince Lotor planned everything, capturing both the red lion and its pilot. His main focus, however, had been Keith. The only paladin with Galra in his blood—Lotor wanted to ensure Keith didn’t have any secret information about the empire tucked inside his brain.

 

So, until the other paladins could rescue him, Keith was trapped. He rarely discusses it, but, from what Lance has heard, it involved torture.

 

Lance shudders at the mere thought of Keith being battered and manhandled. Mental scars certainly require greater care—and more time—to mend. And Lance had been there every step of the way to help Keith heal. The scar is a hideous reminder of the torment Keith had experienced but also symbolizes how the two finally came together, gradually progressing from friends to something more.

 

“Hey… Keith?” Lance worries at his bottom lip.  

 

“Mmm?”

 

“I don’t think I say it enough so… you know that I, uh. That I love you. Right?” Lance’s mouth struggles like it’s stuffed with cotton. This is nothing like when he first confessed his feelings to Keith and yet that’s how it feels. That’s how it _always_ feels.

 

“What’s gotten into you?” Keith tenses, and Lance draws his arms back against his chest. “Oh.”

 

“I sometimes forget it’s there.” Lance lightly presses a finger to the lavender little triangle. “But I don’t know how I could forget about…”

 

“It’s alright. That happened years ago.”

 

“You know how scared I was,” Lance mumbles. “And you—you weren’t _you_.”

 

 _Don’t cry_ , Lance silently begs. _Please don’t._

 

“Well, I’m definitely myself now.” As if sensing the tears threatening to spill over, Keith looks over his shoulder. A small smile takes shape on his lips. The skin around his mouth wrinkles, as well as around his eyes, from many hours spent grinning and laughing at Lance’s nonsense. “That’s what matters.”

 

A weak laugh wrenches its way up Lance’s throat. “Yeah, but…”

 

“No ‘buts,’” Keith scolds. “You helped me back then. I wouldn’t be here right now if you hadn’t.”

 

“ _Keith_.”

 

“I’m serious. I could hardly sleep, and I felt like I was going _crazy_. You were the only one who knew what I needed.” Keith pauses, brow furrowing. “At first, I didn’t care about whether I got any better. But then you… you were doing so _much_.”

 

Lance shakes his head; words have totally escaped him. The telltale warmth of a tear gliding down his cheek forces him to curse. Stupid, stupid tear ducts.

 

“Lance, I— Shit.”

 

Keith turns all the way around and practically throws himself at Lance. Caught off guard, Lance falls backward, landing with Keith pressed against his chest. For a moment, their eyes meet, and Lance sees the entire universe reflected back at him. Then, just like that, Keith is groaning in embarrassment and burying his face in Lance’s neck.

 

“I love you so much,” Keith whispers against his skin. “ _So_ fucking much.”

 

Lance wraps his arms around Keith, savoring the vulnerable truth in those words. He never gets tired of this—of having Keith at his side. _I love you, too._ A memory flickers to life in Lance’s mind, of their first kiss, of the time Keith first thanked him for everything he had done. Keith had been a quivering mess back then, clutching at Lance like a lifeline. _More than you’ll ever know._

 

So Lance holds Keith close, like he never plans to let him go.

 

(He doesn’t.)

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all kudos and comments are appreciated!! they FUEL me. also please come cry with me on tumblr or twitter @tobiologist. i really love talking to readers!!


	4. welcome home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance saves Keith and gets a little too... excited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> going back in time! like the first two prompts, this is set sometime post s2. please picture lance spinning keith around

“You’re sure this will work?” Lance blurts.

 

Pidge types furiously, while Hunk peers over her shoulder at the lines of code on the screen. Lance, on the other hand, can’t seem to sit still. His legs are practically begging to move. And he happily obliges, pacing anxiously from one side of the control room to the other.

 

“It should,” Pidge assures him. “Even Slav seemed to think so.”

 

The alien in question is nowhere to be seen. Lance could really care less; he has more important things to worry about right now.

 

A few days—or quintants—ago, Pidge managed to detect Shiro’s presence. It was faint and, unfortunately, the reading placed him smackdab in the middle of Galra territory. Based on the coordinates, he was trapped in another Galran prison.

 

Once his location was determined, Keith made his decision without a second thought: they would rescue Shiro.

 

No one opposed him, of course, and the castle ship was scheduled to teleport across the universe as soon as possible. The rest of the team came together and offered to do whatever they could to help. Lance refused to leave Keith’s side throughout the entire process. There’s no way he was leaving that reckless bastard alone.

 

But, even under Lance’s watch, Keith was captured.

 

Not in the conventional sense either. Lance didn’t completely understand what happened but suffice to say Keith and Shiro were stuck in an alternate dimension. The astral plane, as Pidge dubbed it. And when Lance found out, he… okay, _maybe_ he went a bit overboard.

 

For an entire week, Lance didn’t sleep. He didn’t need it, not when two members of the team were stuck in another dimension _._ Finding Keith—finding _them_ was far more important than maintaining his precious sleep schedule.

 

(Not that Keith ever needs to know that.)

 

To his relief, Lance didn’t have to order the other paladins around. They were just as desperate to save their missing teammates, and finally reunite the Voltron paladins. Even Coran and Allura spent their days helping Pidge and providing useful information about travelling between alternate universes.

 

And now here they are. Seven quintants later, they’re ready.

 

“It has to work,” Lance mutters, lowering his voice.

 

The extracting device is bizarre, covered in numerous buttons, knobs, and gauges. Coran had found it and tasked Hunk with fixing any of the broken parts. Pidge updated the software, and Lance volunteered to double check the program for any bugs. Sure, he doesn’t have as much experience as Pidge, but he still knows his way around a code.

 

Pidge skims through the data and pinpoints the weakest spot in the surrounding space. Thankfully, it’s far enough from the Galran prison ship to avoid drawing attention to themselves. The machine hums softly as it charges up. A loud _bing_ fills the room, the only sound to be heard, and Pidge taps the space bar on the computer built into the device.

 

A brilliant blue ray, unlike anything Lance has ever seen before, fires from a wide barrel attached to the ship. The beam strikes a seemingly random spot in the void of space. Lance pauses, shoulders tense, as he watches the beam quickly fizzle to nothing.

 

The silence is heavier than before. Lance can’t seem to breathe properly and turns to Pidge. “What just happened?”

 

“That… I don’t know.” Pidge bows her head.

 

“No.” Lance chuckles bitterly. “No, no.” His eyes flit to Hunk. “ _No_.”

 

”Lance…”

 

Suddenly, a sharp sound cuts through the air like the crack of a whip. Lance doesn’t have time to react before he’s collapsing to the ground, trapped beneath a panting, half-naked Keith Kogane.

 

Someone screams—Hunk, maybe?—and Lance barely glimpses Allura tackling Shiro in a hug. There’s another figure, too, caught in what appears to be a bone-crushing embrace. The head of chestnut brown hair seems strangely familiar. “Matt!” Pidge cries as she continues to squeeze him. _Ah yes_.

 

Meanwhile, Lance struggles to breathe but for a completely different reason than earlier.

 

“La—Lance?” Keith pulls back enough to make eye contact. A flush extends all the way from the base of his neck to the tips of his ears. Even his chest looks a little pink. “Why are—oh my God.”

 

Keith immediately scrambles to his feet. Lance goes to join him, but pain in his lower back keeps him from moving quite as quickly. _Figures_ , he thinks with a sigh. But then everything sinks in and—

 

“Holy shit, Keith,” Lance gasps. He doesn’t care if he has an audience; he’s going to hug the _fuck_ out of Keith. “You’re alive!”

 

“Yeah? You act like—oof!”

 

Lance wraps his arms around Keith and lifts him into the air, spinning him in a circle. “Keith is alive! You can suck Voltron’s massive mechanical dick, Zarkon—“

 

 _“Lance_ ,” Shiro groans.

 

“—because Keith Kogane, king of the mullets, is alive!” To his delight, the outburst draws a laugh from Keith. A _real_ laugh.

 

His back chooses that exact moment to remind him it hurts, and Lance winces. Slowly, he sets Keith back on the ground. Lance can’t tear his gaze away from the flushed cheeks and blinding grin directed his way. Keith has never looked more attractive and, boy, if that isn’t an interesting development.

 

“You know,” Keith drawls, glancing around the room. “I’m not the only one who lived through that, Lance.”

 

 _Oh_.

 

“Shit, yeah, um,” Lance splutters. He shoots Matt and Shiro an excited thumbs up. “Congrats on living, guys!”

 

They exchange a knowing Look, and Lance feels his stomach sink. He’s happy to see them reunited, but Matt _is_ a Holt, after all. Plus, the two have been friends for ages. _I’m in big trouble_.

 

Once the others break off and start chatting amongst themselves, Lance returns his attention to Keith. His smile has softened but retains the same ‘knock Lance flat on his ass’ quality. The bare torso thing is also quite distracting. Lance swallows down the lump in his throat and mirrors Keith’s smile.

 

“Welcome home,” he croaks, voice thick with some emotion he’d rather not put a name to.

 

“Yeah.” Keith’s grin widens. “It’s nice to be back.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all kudos and comments are appreciated!! they FUEL me. also please come cry with me on tumblr or twitter @tobiologist. i really love talking to readers!!


	5. partners in crime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance and Keith have to go undercover as a royal couple. Also poor Shiro messes up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this can be seen as a continuation of the last prompt. these last few entries are definitely my favorites!

Keith is starting to get suspicious.

 

Shiro has now paired him with Lance for the last ten missions. _Ten_. Even worse, when Keith confronted him about it, he swore up and down it was only because they functioned well as a team. But Keith has known Shiro for long enough to know he’s up to no good.

 

Not that he’ll cause a fuss about it or anything. He doesn’t want to be an ass now that Shiro is finally back. Keith spent the last couple years wondering if the black paladin was even alive. And, if Keith is totally honest with himself, it isn’t like he _hates_ working with Lance. They’ve learned each other’s strengths and weaknesses by now and, surprisingly enough, developed a scarily efficient system.

 

Keith and Lance actually… kind of… _maybe_ kick ass when they’re together.

 

 _Stop that,_ Keith reprimands himself. _Pay attention to the mission_.

 

“Alright, so in order to gather as much information as we can, two of you will have to go…” Shiro trails off. The team is gathered for another mission briefing. This time, they’re trying to pinpoint Lotor’s current location. The Galran prince disappeared off the grid several weeks ago, and the paladins can’t seem to find where he’s hiding. Shiro glances over at Allura, and she nods, urging him to continue. “Two of you will go to the party in disguise. As a, well. A couple.”

 

“I’m sure the two of you will be the hottest couple there,” Lance snorts, shooting a wink in Allura’s direction. “Knock ‘em dead.”

 

“Oh no, I will not be attending. I’m afraid a dress would not be enough to conceal my identity. There are far too many guests who may recognize me,” Allura explains.

 

“Okay? So we finally get to see Pidge in a dress?”

 

Pidge digs her elbow into Lance’s stomach and snickers when he squeals.

 

“Ah, no. I was thinking… the two of you would go as the couple.” Shiro rushes through the last part of his statement and awkwardly motions at—

 

“What?”

 

“ _No_.”

 

Keith and Lance react at the same time and turn to angrily glare daggers at each other. Lance jabs his finger into Keith’s chest. The gesture is all too familiar at this point. Keith is surprised he doesn’t have a permanent indent in his skin where Lance usually pokes him. “You—“

 

“Neither of you have to wear a dress,” Allura interjects, eying the two snarling boys warily. “Lance will be disguised as the current Vruan prince, and Keith will be his escort. The prince has many lovers. No one will question Keith’s presence.”

 

Lance switches gears almost immediately. He pulls away and turns his full attention to Allura. “Prince?”

 

“Coran thought it’d be the most believable.” Shiro shrugs. “He says you and the Vruan prince look similar. And it’ll be easy to send Keith with you.”

 

“Prince…”

 

“Princess, I don’t know if this is the best idea,” Keith tries. Because he can’t pretend to be Lance’s date. He _can’t_. Not after a few… interesting events that have happened since the team reunited. The hug and spin when Keith returned to the ship, the almost kiss during a game of Truth or Dare one late night, the accidental hand holding after a near death experience, the undeniable sexual tension during their recent sparring matches—it all spells danger.

 

“Obviously, the whole team will be there if anything goes wrong,” Shiro clarifies. “The building is huge, and, based on what the Blade of Marmora members told us, there are plenty of places to look.”

 

“We should be able to hack into their system.” Pidge grins at Hunk. He mirrors her expression and holds out his hand for a fist bump. “No problem.”

 

“Allura and I will scan the other rooms. Meanwhile, you two will talk to the guests in the ballroom.”

 

“Shiro—“

 

“I look like a _prince_?” Lance cries. Keith winces at the outburst. “Holy shit. I get to dress up like a prince! Prince Lancelot has a pretty nice ring to it…”

 

“That’s all you took from that?” Keith groans.

 

“You’re just jealous that _I_ get to be the prince.”

 

“No, I’m upset because I have to pretend to date a pain in the ass prince like you.”

 

“Excuse me, lover boy—“

 

“ _Lover boy_?”

 

“Anyway,” Shiro interrupts, raising his voice. He flashes Keith and Lance a look that could kill. “We’ll meet back here in four vargas.”

 

“Coran and I will help Keith and Lance with their costumes.” Allura bounces a little on the balls of her feet, a mischievous glint in her eyes. A shiver runs down Keith’s spine. “It should not take long.”

 

“Alright, we’re good then,” Shiro decides. “And good luck, Klance!”

 

The room goes completely silent for a moment and then chaos. Shiro slaps his hands over his mouth, eyes bulging out of his skull. Hunk screams, and Pidge’s jaw drops, practically scraping the floor. They both stare expectantly at Shiro. Allura gasps, whispering, “oh my,” under her breath.

 

Keith, on the other hand, is sure his brain has melted.

 

“Wha…” Lance starts. “What did you just say?”

 

Keith jerks his head in Lance’s direction. He can’t decipher the tone of Lance’s voice at all, but… his cheeks are flushed. Keith didn’t even realize his skin could turn quite so red. _Um?_

“I said Lance!” Shiro laughs nervously, dropping his hands to his sides. “Good luck, Lance!”

 

“There was totally a ‘k’ in there, dude.”

 

“Of course not! Now, I have very important… pre-mission things to attend to so, um, I’m just going to—“ Shiro points frantically at the exit. “Yeah.” He darts out of the room like his ass is on fire; no one tries to stop him.

 

“Wow,” Lance drawls once Shiro is out of earshot. “Wow.”

 

“He… well,” Keith stammers. Yep, his brain has almost definitely melted. “Stress. You know?”

 

But Lance is hung up on something else. “Partners in crime. Like… space range partners.”

 

“ _What?_ ” Keith squawks.

 

“Us.” Lance gestures between the two of them. “Klance.”

 

“Oh my God, Lance, _please stop_.”

 

“We’re Klance…”

 

“ _Lance_.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all kudos and comments are appreciated!! they FUEL me. also please come cry with me on tumblr or twitter @tobiologist. i really love talking to readers!!


	6. quote

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Looks like Lance is going to have to teach Keith how to dance...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follows the events in the last prompt! i'm really happy with the way this turned out. the quote is included at the beginning!

_I’m picturing us on rooftops_

_in strange cities,_

_with strange people,_

_and us._

_Always us._

— “I’m not sure if this is for love or old friendships or new friendships” by Claire Luisa

\--

 

So this is what Keith’s life has come to.

 

Guests from every corner of the universe seem to be gathered for the day’s celebration. Each is dressed lavishly in the traditional attire of their people, creating a stunning spectacle of rich cloth, dangling jewels, and enchanting body art, like thousands of dancing canvases.

 

As a prince, Lance is dressed like royalty. Allura managed to find an old suit of her father’s on board the ship. Thankfully, the Altean style is similar to that of the Vruan’s. The suit material glimmers a dazzling baby blue under the light of the levitating chandelier overhead. Lance wears a white button-down beneath his suit jacket with the top two buttons undone. Blue swirls adorn his collarbone, as well as his shoulders, hidden for now. Tiny white and blue dots stretch the length of both eyebrows, and the makeup Allura chose makes his eyes stand out even more than usual. Turquoise gems adorn the rings on his fingers and dangle from fragile silver chains on his ears.

 

As much as Keith hates to admit it, Allura and Coran did an amazing job. Lance certainly has an ethereal, royal air about him.

 

Which is great for the mission but _terrible_ for Keith’s sanity.

 

Every few minutes, while they make their way through the crowd, Keith convinces himself everything is fine. Then, he stares at Lance for a second too long and the allusion is shattered. Lance is easily one of the most beautiful people in attendance. It’s almost impossible to ignore the whole _crush_ thing when said crush practically looks like an otherworldly being, like a fucking god or goddess or something.

 

Keith, on the other hand, feels… out of place.

 

The prince’s escort is not allowed to dress more extravagantly than the prince himself. His suit clings comfortably to his figure, and the black color with red accents certainly complements Lance’s outfit. A silver chain hangs around his neck with a small charm, adorned with the Vruan crest. The ring on his right hand matches one of Lance’s, boasting a sizable ruby. In the Vruan culture, a matching set represents the bond between the prince and his escort.

 

“Like wedding rings,” Pidge was all too happy to point out when Coran presented the rings to them.

 

At the moment, Lance is chatting up two lanky aliens. Keith doesn’t recognize them, but the tiny gold crowns on both of their heads are explanation enough.

 

“Of course, of course,” Lance answers with a little chuckle. “Thank you for your time.” He bows to both in turn and then grabs Keith’s hand. Even through his gloves, Keith senses the faint trembling of Lance’s fingers. _He’s nervous_?

 

Keith lets Lance drag him toward the center of the dancefloor. There’s a lull in the music and most guests have cleared the area. Once they reach a spot far from any potential eavesdroppers, Lance stops and fixes his attention on Keith.

 

“None of these people know where that stupid Galran prince is,” Lance hisses, lowering his voice. “Hell, the first few couples I talked to didn’t even know the dude was _alive_.”

 

Before Keith can answer, the band picks up where it left off. But, this time, the music has a more pleasant, slow melody. Keith curses softly under his breath. Of course the next song starts right as he and Lance reach the center of the dancefloor. They need to move and fast.

 

But Lance doesn’t seem to be on the same wavelength.

 

Far too gracefully, he wraps an arm around Keith’s waist and draws him closer. Keith is too busy having a _minor heart attack, what the fuck_ , to stop Lance from intertwining their fingers and lifting their clasped hands. Unsure of what to do, Keith lets his other arm hang awkwardly at his side. “Uh—Lance?”

 

“Put your other hand on my shoulder,” Lance whispers. “Get rid of that noodle arm right now.”

 

“But… what… are we dancing?”

 

“Not yet, but we’re about to be.”

 

Keith reluctantly obeys Lance’s instructions. His gloves feel far more constricting than before, and, yep, here comes the sweat. He silently hopes there aren’t pit stains on his suit. And if he starts to smell, too, that’ll be the end of him. No more Keith Kogane.

 

Lance slowly begins to spin. Completely out of his element, Keith blindly follows. Or at least attempts to.

 

“You’ve never danced before, have you?” Lance prompts.

 

“Uh… no…”

 

“Right. That explains why you’ve stepped on my feet, like, four times now. Even though you’re looking down like a weirdo.” Lance scoffs and shakes his head. The light catches the jewels on his earrings as they swing. “You really never went to any of the Garrison dances?”

 

“Seriously? Of course not,” Keith huffs.

 

“Alright, geez, calm down. I should’ve known.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“You look way too good in that suit to be giving me such an _awful_ headache,” Lance whines.

 

 _He thinks I look good_. Keith feels his heart crawl up his throat. _That had to be a joke._

 

“And you look way too good to be giving me shit right now,” Keith quips. Two can play at this game. “But here we are.”

 

“You think… I look good?”

 

Keith considers tearing out his own tongue. Maybe it’ll keep him from saying embarrassing things for the rest of the evening. “I mean, Allura and Coran did a good job of making you look like a prince.” _Smooth._

 

“I guess they did,” Lance mutters. He almost sounds… disappointed. “Now, to avoid blowing our cover, please just follow my lead. Okay?”

 

“Okay.” Keith can’t bring himself to protest. Lance makes a good point. A prince and escort would definitely know how to dance.

 

Lance resumes turning, carefully guiding Keith along. Other couples smile fondly whenever they pass on the dancefloor. To his delight, by the tenth or so turn, Keith quits stepping on Lance’s feet. They develop a comfortable rhythm, each footfall in time with the beat of the song. As the musicians continue to strum their instruments on stage, Keith takes a second to close his eyes. The melody really is beautiful.

 

The longer they dance, the closer they seem to get. Keith isn’t sure who’s responsible, but he likes to think they’re both at fault.

 

Keith inhales Lance, savors the body heat and comfort of being so close without the worry of what others might think. That’s the beauty of disguises. For a time, no matter how brief, you’re someone else. You can do just about anything under the guise of staying in-character.

 

At least that’s the excuse you can use if someone later questions your actions.

 

This moment feels fragile to Keith. It’s almost as if he and Lance are an actual couple, dancing together at a party. Keith wonders what it would be like to travel the universe like this. Lance at his side, a steady presence, a _constant_.

 

Keith lets himself be a bit selfish. He leans his forehead against Lance’s and breathes. His heart beats a frantic staccato in his chest, but he doesn’t pull away.

 

And neither does Lance.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all kudos and comments are appreciated!! they FUEL me. also please come cry with me on tumblr or twitter @tobiologist. i really love talking to readers!!


	7. free day - change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance has an earth-shattering realization while dancing with Keith...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FINALY ENTRY!!!!! obviously a continuation of the last prompt. probably my favorite of all the entries. i hope everyone has enjoyed these short little ficlets! and remember you can also find them [on twitter](https://twitter.com/tobiologist/status/865226787311235072) and [on tumblr](http://tobiologist.tumblr.com/tagged/klanceweek2017)

Admittedly, Keith isn’t the worst dancer in the world.

 

The guy is a freakishly fast learner. It’s no wonder he consistently kicks the fighting simulator’s ass. And, as much as Lance wants to be jealous of how quickly Keith picks up on dancing, he’s far too distracted by… other things.

 

Like the fact Keith is pressed up against him. Their foreheads touching, Lance breathes in the same air Keith exhales. They continue turning, breath mingling, and Lance feels like his body is on fire. Every point of contact _burns_ but in the most pleasant way imaginable.

 

Never in a million years did Lance think he’d be slow dancing with Keith. And, weirder still, he’s enjoying himself.

 

He, Lance McClain, is enjoying dancing with _Keith_.

 

There’s no denying it. Lance likes the weight of Keith in his arms, bodies aligned just right. The scant distance between their lips is definitely the worst temptation he’s had to endure all evening. It’s _killing_ him. It would be easy to close that gap—and totally excusable! None of the guests would be surprised to see the Vruan prince and his escort kiss.

 

But… Keith would be against it.

 

Lance is pretty confident he’d get slapped. The two of them only briefly discussed ‘public displays of affection’ before stepping into the ballroom. Keith had been very against anything more than hand holding. He even hesitated when Lance brought up hugging. _Hugging_.  

 

“This is kinda…” Lance whispers into the space between them.

 

“Yeah,” Keith agrees. He tips his head just the slightest bit, and Lance swears their mouths get even closer together.

 

Lance inhales sharply at the feeling of their noses brushing, Soft, gentle, so very unlike the arguments they have or their banter during training. Each brush follows the sway of their heads, naturally moving with the flow of the music. Lance wants to smooth his fingers over the curve of Keith’s jaw, wants to bury his fingers in dark hair. He wants to know the feel and taste of Keith’s mouth against his own.

 

“I can’t believe none of these people know where Lotor is,” Keith sighs.

 

Lance swears their lips touch for an instant, and his brain short-circuits.

 

“Some of them don’t seem like they know what’s going on outside their own little royal bubble. Or maybe they don’t care because the Galra empire hasn’t destroyed their planet yet. Hell, maybe some of these bastards struck up a deal with Zarkon to protect themselves.”

 

Is Keith… rambling?

 

“Mhmm,” Lance manages to respond. Could their lips _possibly_ get any closer without touching? “Good point, babe.”

 

Keith huffs. “Are we really doing this again?”

 

“Doing what?”

 

“The… nickname thing.”

 

“Oh,” Lance drawls knowingly. His fingers twitch restlessly. “You don’t want me to call you ‘babe.’”

 

“Definitely not.”

 

“But we’re supposed to be _dating_. That’s what people do when they’re together. They give each other cute pet names.”

 

“Like Sharpshooter?” Keith teases.

 

 _Actually_ … Lance swallows down the sudden lump in his throat. Because, now that he thinks about, ‘sharpshooter’ could qualify as a pet name. Especially the way Keith says it.

 

“Yeah,” Lance admits. Keith perceptibly stiffens in his hold. “But ‘babe’ might be safer for now. Just in case anyone heard and got suspicious.”

 

“Right, right, or, I mean, no pet names,” Keith blurts. “Whatever you, uh. Want.”

 

Something about Keith’s voice, laced with panic, gives Lance a boost of confidence. _What’s the worst that could happen if I just asked?_

 

“Hey… Keith. You know how we’re supposed to act like a couple, right?”

 

“…Right.”

 

“And you know how couples act sometimes when they’re, you know, slow dancing?”

 

Keith’s silence is answer enough. Fear jolts through Lance’s body. Maybe he should take it back and pretend he never—

 

“Yeah,” Keith murmurs. It’s so quiet that Lance barely hears his reply over the sound of the music. “And?”

 

“Alright, well, I’m going to try something. I need you to play it cool, okay?”

 

“Why wouldn’t I?”

 

“There’s a reason I asked first,” Lance confesses. His cheeks are burning; he can only imagine how red they are. “So please don’t freak out. Just go with it.”

 

Keith mumbles what sounds like a, “yes,” and Lance feels his blood boil. Ever so carefully, he tilts his chin and gasps at the clumsy collision of their noses. It certainly isn’t enough to stop him, though. His hand seems to have a mind of its own and crawls up Keith’s back, resting at the nape of his neck. A small sigh falls from Keith’s mouth at the change in position. Lance frees his other hand and slides it along Keith’s jaw, drawing him closer. He gently presses his lips to Keith’s, although a little off-center.

 

_Holy mother of quiznak._

 

Lance hovers there for a moment and then pulls away. His lips tingle pleasantly, excitement thrumming through his bones. This isn’t his first kiss, but… oddly enough, it feels like it. The sensation reminds Lance of running through the halls of a Galra base, shooting enemies, dodging shots. There’s a hint of trepidation underlying the excitement, but not in a bad way—quite the opposite.

 

Never has a kiss made Lance feel so _alive_.

 

“We should…” Keith pauses to lick his lips; Lance can’t look away. “Probably, uh. Again. Just in case.”

 

Reality crashes down around Lance. Right, this is just an act. The only reason they’re here, kissing, is to trick a crowd of aliens into thinking they’re a royal couple.

 

“Yeah,” Lance croaks and surges forward.

 

‘Fake kiss’ or not, Lance is going to make sure this one is memorable. No matter what happens, Lance knows he’ll remember this night for the rest of his life. There’s no way he’ll forget the first moment their lips met, the way Keith desperately gripped his suit jacket and pressed as close to him as humanly possible.

 

It’s like the universe itself shifts. Three years together in space, and Lance comes to a startling conclusion.

 

He might be in love.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all kudos and comments are appreciated!! they FUEL me. also please come cry with me on tumblr or twitter @tobiologist. i really love talking to readers!!

**Author's Note:**

> all kudos and comments are appreciated!! they FUEL me. also please come cry with me on tumblr or twitter @tobiologist. i really love talking to readers!!


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